Neverland
by MegaNerdAlert
Summary: In the realm of things Hermione Granger and Molly Weasley thought they would never experience, this one was really quite mad.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, I have been itching for a new Molly/Hermione...it really is an underrated pairing...so I'm writing one. This WAS going to be a oneshot, but I got going on it and decided it warranted expanding. Enjoy!**

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It was odd, really, how it had happened. Molly Weasley had been injured grievously in the final battle at Hogwarts, and as a result, had spent the next year, almost to the day, in a coma. Harry and Ginny had decided to move to America together to get away from Harry's fame. Being the stand-in daughter while Ginny was gone, it had fallen to Hermione Granger, per her relationship with Ron, to play nursemaid for Molly when she woke up. Hermione had stepped into that role gladly, but now, six months later, she was beginning to regret doing so. Who would have thought that helping her boyfriend's mum learn to walk again after a year of not being used would result in her becoming a walking cliché.

Yes, Hermione finally admitted to herself today, to a large glass of brandy and nobody else – thank you very much – that in the process of helping Molly Weasley regain her health, she had fallen in love with the older witch. It might have been a simple thing to deal with had Molly not dubbed Hermione her _new best friend_, in response to her stellar care. Had that been the case, she could have just taken a step back and kept a safe distance from the read-haired woman, but Molly had decided they were friends now, and was constantly asking her over, and arranging for outings together.

An Owl fluttered into Hermione's stark flat. She had her own place now, but as she spent most of her non-waking, non-working ours with Molly, she had not gotten around to doing very much unpacking. Boxes littered the floor, bookshelves were half assembled and leaning on various walls, and she'd been eating off of what plate and drinking from one glass that she'd pulled out of a box in the kitchen six weeks ago when she moved in. Her bedroom was the only part of her flat that looked somewhat put together, and that was only because Molly had showed up one afternoon a few weeks ago and helped her unpack her clothes and linens.

The brown Owl dropped a bit of parchment on her lap, and helped himself to a bit of bacon leftover from her breakfast this morning. She hoped it hadn't been lying there so long as to spoil and make the poor bird sick. It was, after all, nearly nine in the evening now.

_Hi, Hermione,_

_I was wondering if you were free to go on a picnic with me tomorrow afternoon. I already checked with Amos, he says you're off tomorrow. Kinglsey says Ron is pulling a double this weekend, so I thought you might like some company. You mentioned a few days ago that you hadn't been on a picnic in ages, so, as they say, no time like the present! I'll meet you at your flat at eleven tomorrow morning unless I hear from you otherwise._

_Molly_

Hermione huffed. Molly had a way about making a request sound like an order. The brunette imagined the skill had something to do with raising so many kids. She wasn't going to bother replying. Hermione knew that Molly would be here at eleven the following morning, come hell or high water, so she figured she ought to do a load of laundry and then get some sleep. She would need to have her wits about her if she was going to be in some secluded park, alone with Molly. Her self-control was utter shite when she wasn't well rested.

* * *

Molly Weasley flicked her wand, putting together the last of what she and Hermione would need for their picnic today. A large enough blanket to spread out on, hoagies, a six pack of butterbeer, a bit of fruit, and a large muggle candy bar – _Snickers - _ which Hermione had a secret fetish for. If Molly was lucky, Hermione would be inclined to share the chocolate. If not, well, being in a coma had given Molly her slim figure back, and the muggle sweet was probably not good for maintaining the size five figure she could now boast about.

"What are you humming about?" Arthur asked, walking into the kitchen and making for an apple off the kitchen table.

"Was I humming?" Molly asked, startled.

"Yes…" her husband of more than thirty years replied uncertainly.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"Don't be," Arthur said with a smile. "It's good to see you happy again. I know how hard you've worked in the last six months to get back in tip-top shape. You're glowing. It reminds me of when we first fell in love."

Molly's gut lurched. After a year in a coma, and the last six months of getting her head back on straight, she and Arthur had not been intimate, not once. He was respecting her space as she healed, and she was glad of it, but if he was insinuating that he wanted to know if her progress meant she was ready to have sex again…

Images flashed in Molly's mind of the Battle of Hogwarts. Clamping her eyes closed didn't make them go away, and she found herself gripping the kitchen table for support. Arthur didn't understand. He couldn't, because he didn't know – no one did. Only the medi-witch who'd examined her knew what had taken place to cause Molly's head injury.

Rape. Five or six men; Molly couldn't remember too much about it. Just the flashes, really. A body bind hex had taken her by surprise, and then the Death Eaters had carried her to the Forbidden Forest, while the battle raged on, and tied her spread eagle between two trees. The body bind was then released and the assault began in earnest. After they were through with her, they dragged her back to the outer edge of the tree line. The last thing Molly remembered was a serpent headed walking stick hitting her between the eyes.

From what she had been told, she'd lay there for a couple hours before a couple Order members found her and sent her directly to St. Mungo's, where she'd remained for the following fifteen months. Might have been eighteen months had Hermione not promised to insure she continued her daily exercises and potion regimen. Hermione had later told her how that had been the first time she'd used her fame, as the brains of the Golden Trio, to get her way.

"I've got to get going," Molly said, eyes snapping open when she felt Arthur's hand on her arm. "I'll be home before dinner."

She didn't look back as she grabbed the basket and walked out the door, knowing that there would be a look of hurt in Arthur's eyes. She knew he wanted to be intimate with her again, but she wasn't ready. She wasn't sure she ever would be. The question that had plagued her for the last six months surfaced in her mind – _Would her marriage be able to survive what happened that night?_

* * *

Hermione looked up and forced a smile when Molly let herself into the flat. "Hi," the older witch said quietly, pulling the younger woman into a hug.

Frustration at her feelings vanished in an instant when she felt wetness on her cheek, and Molly began to shake. "Molly, what's wrong?" Hermione asked worriedly.

The older woman gave up pretenses of something _not _being wrong five seconds later, as a loud sob reverberated in Hermione's ear, and Molly clutched her so tightly it almost hurt.

"Molly?" Hermione pressed. "Talk to me, love."

The twenty one year old kicked herself mentally for the term of endearment she'd just used. She was not one to throw the _L_ word out casually, and Molly knew that. Hermione could only hope that in her distress, Molly had not noticed.

"He wants…I can't…god…they might as well have killed me…my life is…I want to die."

The string of incomplete thoughts puzzled Hermione, but the last part, about wanting to die, was clear as day to her. "Oh, no you don't, Molly!" Hermione shouted, grabbing the older woman's face and forcing Molly to look at her. "Don't you fucking dare do that to me," she said firmly. "Please Molly, whatever it is, I will help you through it."

Molly stared blankly at her for a moment, seemingly startled out of her hysterical state. Ten seconds later, and all in a blur of quick movement, Molly's hands were on Hermione's face as well, and the older witch had pulled the younger into a kiss.

It was instinct, really, that made Hermione respond, rather than any sort of clear thinking. Lips melded, teeth clashed, and tongues battled for dominance. Hands drifted downward, each woman exploring the others' curves. Bodies pressed together tightly, and it was only a matter of minutes before the combined body heat and the heart racing activity caused Hermione and Molly to begin feeling too warm.

Nothing was said as they helped each other strip shirts and bras on route to Hermione's bedroom. The younger woman let out a gasp as Molly pushed her onto the bed and climbed on top of her. Hermione moaned and squirmed under Molly's weight at the older woman pinned her arms to the bed. The younger witch wanted nothing more than to remove her jeans – and Molly's too – but the red-haired woman was dead set on dominating her, and Hermione was inclined to let her.

Hermione had suspicions regarding the nature of what had landed Molly Weasley in St. Mungo's for a year, though they'd never talked about it. That said, if she was right, then trying to overpower Molly in this moment would be the biggest mistake she could make. Granted, she was well on the way to having sex with a married woman at the present, so in the category of mistakes, Hermione didn't suppose her judgment was much to talk about.

"Molly, please," she whispered, realizing that if she really loved Molly, than she needed to stop this before they went too far. "Stop."

The spell was broken, and Molly let go of her arms and got off of the younger woman. "Shit," Molly uttered, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from Hermione.

Hermione crawled over and sat directly behind the older woman, wrapping her arms gently around Molly's waste. "Please, please know…I didn't want to stop. But I had to," she whispered into a mane of long, red hair.

"I can't believe I just did that," Molly said quietly. "What the _hell_ was I thinking…"

"Beats me," Hermione replied wistfully.

"I saw the way you looked at me," the older woman admitted. "I saw how you felt…and I just…needed to…god, I don't know, Hermione. I just acted. It felt…right. On the other hand…I'm married."

"To Arthur," Hermione agreed. "A man who loves you dearly, who you love in return."

"Who I have not let touch me since before the end of the war," Molly confessed, agony in her voice.

Hermione fought back the tears forming in her own eyes. That confession could only mean one thing. "How many were there?" Hermione asked quietly, reaching out and taking hold of Molly's hand.

"Five or six," the older woman replied with a hiss, gripping the younger woman's hand angrily. "You knew?"

"I suspected," Hermione sighed.

"Yes you still…"

"Love you?"

Molly twisted, looked Hermione in the eye and nodded.

"With every part of my being," the younger witch acknowledged. "But that doesn't change that you are a married woman."

"But my being a married woman _could_ change," Molly argued.

Hermione gulped. "You have to know that any relationship between us will tear apart your family. You could never do that."

Molly stared intently into the younger woman's eyes for a good long minute before replying. "What if I could?"

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**Please review! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: I know some of you are going to think Ron is OOC in this chapter, but I wanted the theme of this story to be one of healing from a great trauma, and it seemed counter productive to portray Ron in a way other than I did here. With Harry out of the picture, Ron has to step up a notch. That said, please read and enjoy! **

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She had no idea what had come over her. Not a bloody clue. Molly Weasley wandered Diagon Alley aimlessly in search of an answer into why she had come two articles of clothing short of having sex with her son's girlfriend. What had happened after Hermione had stopped things almost seemed worse. She'd told the younger woman what she had not been about to tell Arthur, or anyone else. Further than that, she had indicated to Hermione that she would consider ending her marriage, insinuating that it would be for the purpose of them being able to be together. In the aftermath of that conversation, Molly had left without another word – effectively cancelling their lunch date.

Date…had she been dating Hermione all this time, unknowing? Was she leading Hermione on, or was that what she had somehow come to want? Did she actually desire to be with a woman decades her junior? Hermione was right; their being together would tear apart her family. Ron would never forgive her for effectively stealing Hermione, though from the sounds of what the beautiful young witch had said a few hours ago, that part of things was already a done deal. Hermione's heart belonged to her, whether she wanted it or not. The next question was if Hermione had her heart as well, or if that still belonged to Arthur. For the first time in the entirety of her marriage, Molly couldn't say for sure.

The last few months had been life altering, she knew that much. When she'd woken from the coma, Hermione was the first thing she'd seen. From what the medinurse had told her, Hermione had been in to see her every single day, sometimes only for an hour, but most days she stayed from the time she got off work to the time the St. Mungo's staff kicked her out. Hermione had continued to remain at her side the following three months during each physical therapy session, and then she had spent the following six weeks living at the Burrow, helping her to re-acclimate to life outside of the hospital.

Molly wondered when it had begun for Hermione. Had the younger witch loved her before the battle at Hogwarts, or had it developed while she was in a coma, or perhaps since she'd woken up. It was love, Molly could say for certain; that much had been obvious in the way Hermione had looked at her, and then concreted when the brunette had stopped her from making a terrible mistake.

But would it have been a mistake? Molly found herself pondering the difference in her mental state at the moment if she had gone _all the way_ with Hermione, versus stopping. Would she still be there now, three hours later? Would she ever have left at all? What having sex with Hermione have been the straw to break the camel's back, as it were, to get her to leave Arthur and the life that she could no longer handle being a part of? Her family was broken already – Fred dead, George and Bill mauled, Ginny run off to America, Percy awkwardly trying to make things right, and Ron and Charlie just kept plugging along; the types to drown in work before facing emotion. And Arthur, well, he was as he'd always been; a solid and unshakable rock that had been the foundation of their family all these years. The foundation may still be there, but the bricks that made that foundation a home were all dispersed. Perhaps the reason she'd even come to this point with Hermione was because the family that she ought to be true to was nothing more than an allusion at this point.

...

Hermione threw herself into unpacking her flat after Molly left. The picnic had been canceled, for obvious reasons, though Molly had left the basket of food in her haste to depart. After a couple of hours, Hermione had gotten hungry and decided to take advantage of said food, and had smiled gently upon finding the _Snickers_. Molly was one of the few who knew she liked that candy. It was so like her to go out of her way to get her the special treat. Ron never did things like that.

Ron.

Hermione cringed as she thought of her boyfriend; the young man whose mum she had nearly shagged that morning. Yes, Molly had initiated that first kiss – Merlin knew why – but Hermione should have stopped it then and there, not let it progress as far as it had. She supposed that in the shock of Molly's indication of reciprocated feelings, Hermione's legendary brain had taken a proverbial hike.

Back to Ron. She knew what she had to do. Regardless of if anything more happened between she and Molly, she could not continue to lead him on to think that he was the Weasley who had her heart. Resetting the wards on her apartment, Hermione took a deep breath and apparated to the Ministry, where Ron was working. It only took her a few minutes to get from the main entrance to Ron's office on the third floor, but the last few steps seemed to last a lifetime. Once upon a time she would have had Harry here, by her side, to help keep Ron from totally blowing his top, but with he and Ginny in America, that buffer was gone, and it was sorely missed at the moment.

"Ron?" she said quietly, knocking on his office door.

"Mione? Is everything alright?" the red-haired man asked, looking up from his massive pile of paperwork.

"No," she whispered, looking at the floor. "This is really hard to say, and I know it would have been better if I'd done this after you got off work, but…"

"You want to break up," Ron finished for her, sighing. "I'd hoped…no, I always knew it wouldn't last. Something changed in you, in the last few months."

"Yes, something did," she replied sadly. "I'm sorry."

"So…" Ron said. "Do I want to know who it is? Who you've fallen for?"

Hermione let out a bitter laugh. "I very much doubt it."

"Bugger," Ron said. "Mum, then?"

Hermione stared, wide eyed and in complete shock. "What…how…?"

"I swear, I did not just magically become super observant or anything," Ron said, blushing. "I was working on a training thing about noticing the little details. You know, body language and stuff. I was all really fresh in my head and I saw you and mum out for lunch one day, and all the signs were there that you loved her, and she loved you, and not in a family kind of way."

"You didn't say anything, to either of us," Hermione observed.

"Nah," Ron shrugged. "As far as I could tell, nothing had actually happened between you, and I figured if I just kept my mouth shut, that maybe it would all turn out to be nothing and I'd still get to keep you. It was a gamble, but it was worth having you be my girl for another couple months."

"We're not sleeping together," Hermione clarified, not wanting Ron to perceive her as some horrid cheating whore.

"But something's changed, hasn't it?"

"This morning," Hermione acknowledged. "She left, and I haven't heard from her since. But I knew that…what happened…meant that I could no longer lie to myself, or to you, about who my heart belongs to."

"Yea, I appreciate that," he nodded. "I hope…that things get sorted with you two. Honestly."

Hermione looked skeptical. "You're alright with your girlfriend of the last year and a half wanting to shag your mum?"

Ron's face paled. "Well, er…I'm not thrilled, per say, but she's my mum, and I love her, and you're my best friend, and I want to keep that, so my options are to either be a man about it, or lose you both. I've already lost Fred, and we've both basically lost Ginny and Harry…I don't think I could handle loosing you and mum if I can prevent it."

"I'm proud of you, Ron," Hermione said, placing her hand gently on her now ex-boyfriend's shoulder. "You've become the man I'd always believed you could be, and some young woman is going to be very lucky to have you."

"Thanks, Hermione," Ron said, turning red. "Means a lot.

"It's the truth."

Ron cleared his throat and shook his head. "Now beat it, Mione. I have work to do," he said with a wry grin. "Go…woo my mum or whatever."

"Thank you Ron," Hermione whispered, making a hasty exit.

...

Molly was getting ready to set the table for dinner when the front door opened and Ron walked in. "I thought you had to work a double today," she said, barely looking up. She didn't think she could look her youngest son in the eye right now.

"Asked to go home early," Ron said. "I thought perhaps we could talk."

"About what, dear?" Molly inquired.

"Well, Hermione of course," he replied, as if it was obvious.

Molly froze. "What about her?" she said after a moment. Was Ron thinking of asking Hermione to marry him? Had he somehow found out what had happened this morning? No, there's no way he could know about that…

"Mum…" Ron said slowly. "It's okay. I'm not upset. Just…talk to me. Tell me what happened with you guys this morning. If anyone will understand, it's me."

The red haired witch broke down in tears all of three seconds later, and fell into Ron's open arms. She wasn't sure if the tears were an expression of the agony she was going through regarding what had happened with Hermione, or his surprising acceptance of the fact, or that she knew it was a matter of minutes before she would be telling her youngest son her deepest secret, and it was such a relief to know he would stand by her side. It was probably all of the above.

"Let's start with what's gone wrong with you and dad," Ron suggested as he guided her to the living room and sat her down on the couch.

She waited for him to sit beside her, then took a deep breath and just said it. "I was raped," she whispered. "During the battle. I was brutally assaulted and left to die."

Ron gasped. "Oh, mum…"

"Your father doesn't know," Molly sniffed. "I just…couldn't tell him _that_, but I can't…Ron, I can't stand the thought of him touching me anymore. He's done nothing to deserve it, but…"

"I get it," Ron said understandingly. "Mum, I am so, so sorry that happened to you. Who…"

"There were five or six of them," Molly shuddered. "I only have a guess of who one of them might have been, and he's already in Azkaban."

"Who?" her son dared to ask.

"Lucius Malfoy," came the answer. The serpent headed walking stick was one of the few things she remembered from that night, and it was an item that she has seen on Lucius' person many times.

"Bloody fucking…" Ron cursed, red faced and angry.

"Ron…"

The youngest Weasley male took a deep breath and forced his anger away. "So you and dad haven't…er…been together since…"

"No," Molly replied. "I thought I just wasn't ready to be intimate with a man, but then…"

"Hermione."

"She helped me through my recovery," Molly tried to explain. "And not just physically. I started thinking her as a friend, a close friend, and then this morning I had a bit of a row with your father and I went over to her flat, still upset…"

"Go on," Ron encouraged after a lengthy pause.

"I had a bit of a breakdown, and I told her that I wanted to die…"

"Bloody hell mum, you better not off yourself!" Ron exclaimed. "Our family has already lost…too many people…"

"I know that, and I'm sorry but that's how I felt at that moment," Molly muttered. "She basically said the same thing you just did, and she put her hands on my face and forced me to look at her…and then I saw it in her eyes."

"That she loved you."

"Yes. And then I kissed her," Molly concluded awkwardly. "I have no idea what came over me."

"Has it crossed your mind yet that you might love her too?" Ron asked softly.

"I already knew I loved her, Ron," she huffed. "I just had never considered loving her _that way._"

"Well, I couldn't blame you if you did," Ron chuckled. "She's a very attractive witch."

"You act like you're okay with the idea of me being…involved with Hermione," Molly said curiously. Of all her family, Ron's was the reaction she'd feared the most, in regard to what had happened this morning. Perhaps, if he was taking it so well, the others might as well. Fear starting to ebb away, the idea of loving Hermione was becoming easier to accept.

"I don't want you guys to have an affair," Ron said slowly. "She deserves better than to be _the other woman_, and dad doesn't deserve to be cheated on. He did nothing wrong, but that doesn't mean that staying with him is right for you…not after what happened…and I reckon he'd understand that."

"You really think so?" Molly asked, desperate for assurance.

"Sure. He loves you. He'll want you to be happy, and to feel safe…even if it's not with him," Ron replied. "That's how I feel about Hermione."

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**I admit it, I am making a real effort into turning a bunch of people into HG/MW shippers. How am I doing so far? Please review!**


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